I Won't Forget (Half My Heart Isn't Mine)
by mizutani asuna
Summary: Call has feelings for Aaron. Aaron has feelings for Call. It should've been simple. Or: The one where Aaron's dating Jasper, Call's dating Celia, and everything's a great big mess. Secret Agent Tamara Rajavi has no choice but to step up out of retirement...Takes place during Gold Year. Slash, if it wasn't obvious.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** Several queer headcanons, and outright slash. **Don't like, don't read.** There are **major** Iron Trial spoilers, and a Copper Gauntlet spoiler (I am spoiling Chapter One, but I warn you it was a hell of an unexpected twist). If you haven't finished Iron Trial, or begun Copper Gauntlet, maybe don't read (for your own good). Rated for cursing and minor sexual content/themes in future chapters. Labeled "drama" because I felt that was more appropriate than "angst".

* * *

"Call," Tamara said, "Just because you think you can ward off the gay, that doesn't mean you actually can."

Call just gave her a look, like: _We go to an underground school for mages; I secretly possess the soul of an evil overlord; and my own dad tried to kill me once. But me being_ straight _is the thing you find most implausible?_

Call sighed, casting around for something sarcastic to say, that would indicate to Tamara how _done_ he was with this conversation. It wasn't like they hadn't already had this argument a thousand times, anyway.

"You shouldn't assume everyone likes Aaron just because _you_ do, Tamara," he said.

Tamara rolled her eyes.

"For the last time, I do _not_ have a crush on—"

"So, you're in love with me, then? Well, that explains why you're so determined to break up me and Celia," Call quipped.

Tamara glared.

"Celia is my _friend_ , Call," she said sternly. "And she doesn't deserve to have her heart broken by some callous _idiot_ , who's just using her to avoid his gay feelings for his best friend."

Call glared right back.

"Would you stop saying that?" he snapped.

"What?" Tamara said, clearly mocking him. " _Gay?_ Gay, gay, gay—"

"Shut up! I am _not_ gay, Tamara—!"

"You are for Aaron," she said, like she'd personally closed the case and there was no need to examine the evidence further.

"Just because Jasper thinks so, is no reason to listen to him," Call said.

At that moment, Jasper walked into the deserted library, as if his name being spoken had summoned him.

"Still in denial, Call?" he smirked.

Jasper had only caught the last bit of their conversation, but he'd walked in on this argument enough times to have the gist of what was going on.

"So, you wouldn't mind if, for instance, _I_ started dating Aaron?"

Hearing Jasper say that, even if he was joking, even if Call _knew_ he was trying to get to him—it made Call feel sick, like he'd gotten knocked around by wyverns and accidentally inhaled their gas.

"GO AHEAD!" he shouted. "Dammit, can't you guys just give it a rest?!"

"Call—!" Tamara called after him, but he had already stormed out.

Jasper whistled.

"He's so predictable," Jasper said. "I can't believe we've all known each other _this_ long, and he's still such an idiot, he hasn't noticed he always reacts the same way whenever anyone mentions "Aaron" and "date" in the same sentence."

Jasper shook his head.

"I wasn't kidding," he told Tamara. "I've waited this long because I kept expecting _something_ to happen between them, but obviously, nothing's going to. I really will steal Aaron from him, just watch."

* * *

If Tamara was honest, she had figured Jasper was full of it, just blowing off steam and talking nonsense because they were all sick of Call's drama. She hadn't expected him to actually ask Aaron out; and she was better prepared for elementals to emerge from her breakfast lichen than she was for Aaron to say _yes_.

"Aaron," she said, catching him in the Refectory just ahead of the lunch rush. "Are you really dating Jasper?"

She couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. There was just...nothing there. Not anger, not malice, not denial, not regret. He looked overworked, more than anything else; he looked tired, like he'd been studying all night for a test, or he'd overstepped his bounds with his chaos magic.

"Yeah," he said at last, "I am."

"But—"

Aaron held up a hand to silence her expected outburst.

"I know you think Call likes me, Tamara. And for awhile there, I even thought you might be _right_. Look, I appreciate you supporting my feelings for Call, all these years, but..." —Aaron looked like he was choking on his words— "Call likes Celia. Looking back on it, it's been obvious since Iron Year. I should've known they would end up together, but you kept insisting it was _me_ Call really liked, and I let myself think that, because I wanted to."

"Aaron—"

"Tamara," Aaron said evenly, "Jasper's gay, and we're friends, and he likes me. I admit, I never thought I'd ever date _Jasper_ , but you know...We've all been through a lot together. I don't know what's next for us, but we're in our Gold Year already, and...I want to give him a chance, Tamara. I want to give _myself_ a chance to get over Call. Please, for my sake, can you let it drop, Tamara? Don't bug Call about this anymore, either. You're just upsetting both him and Celia."

"Fine," Tamara sighed.

She didn't want to let the matter drop, but she didn't see how she could win this fight without alienating all her friends. So, at least until she thought of a better plan, she agreed to stop arguing.

* * *

She watched the two couples all throughout lunch. It occurred to her that that was maybe a little bit creepy, but she brushed off the feeling. It was okay to be worried about your own friends, she reasoned.

Call and Celia seemed...amiable, if not in love, which in Tamara's opinion, was what they always looked like. Like friends instead of lovers; just friends who, you know, held hands, and fed each other chocolate-covered raisins and candy corn.

Aaron and Jasper didn't seem any different from usual, either, until Jasper decided, very suddenly, to stage a very public kiss—and Tamara rolled her eyes. Jasper and his theatrics. Some things never changed. Wanting everyone to know he was dating the Makar, and Aaron was off-limits now? _Typical_ Jasper.

Celia gasped, more out of surprise than disgust. Call's hands clenched and, Tamara noted, he seemed to have to consciously unclench them. At his side, as if sensing Call's unease, Havoc growled.

There was a sudden roar of applause, like Aaron had done something really brave, even though a) Aaron had been out since Bronze Year, and b) Aaron hadn't actually _done_ anything. He was on the receiving end of this whole fiasco—it was Jasper who had initiated it.

Call rolled his eyes. Someone whistled, and someone else shouted, _Show-off!_ Which pretty much summed everything up, in Call's opinion.

"Call, are you alright?" Celia asked, finally noticing that Call looked seconds away from challenging Jasper to a duel to the death.

"Yeah," he managed. "PDA just grosses me out, that's all. Like, geez, can't they get a room or something?"

Celia giggled.

" _We_ kiss all the time," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's different," Call said.

Celia smiled, thinking he meant it was different because he enjoyed kissing her, because he got to be an active part of the kissing, and not just awkwardly watch someone else do it.

Call frowned, knowing that that wasn't what he meant, not at all, not even a little bit; and he was a jerk for allowing his girlfriend to think she was being flattered. Tamara was right, that's what he was thinking, that's what he was actually admitting to himself. He felt his jealousy burn through him, like he'd swallowed a grenade that had just exploded inside his stomach and launched an inferno within him.

Without thinking, he leaned forward across the table, and kissed Celia. It wasn't enjoyable. Her mouth was cold, like always. It was soft, but not in a pleasant way—kissing her felt... _mushy_ , like he was making out with lichen oatmeal. He couldn't help but wonder what kissing Aaron felt like; that pissed him off, and he pushed himself against Celia harder, trying to get lost in the feel of her, in the action of swapping spit with her, in whatever "heat of the moment" existed. But it was impossible: He felt nothing, and he hated it.

What was the _point_ of being impulsive, if it didn't solve anything? He had hoped to confuse himself, to bury himself in sensations, to cover up what his conscious mind had finally stopped letting him hide from. His feelings for Aaron were there, and they were real, and oh, God, they were so much stronger than _this_.

He pulled away from Celia, defeated. Really, he'd been confusing sexual orientation with romantic orientation this whole time. Call knew he was asexual, and he'd tried to tell himself that _that_ was why Celia had never excited him. But it was a lie. A great, big, enormously _stupid_ lie. And Tamara had known. She'd tried to tell him, but he had refused to listen. Call didn't want to think it was his own fault Aaron was dating Jasper, but maybe it was.

He thought of something Tamara had said to him, when she came out as aromantic. He was the first person she'd told, and talking about it had prompted Call to admit to being asexual himself. They had agreed, then: _You can't force yourself to have feelings you don't have_. They had promised to stand by each other in a world that glorified sex and romance and was always conflating the damn things. With Tamara's help, Call had become okay with the part of himself that didn't want to have sex—that didn't want to have sex, ever—but he hadn't realized that being ace didn't make him immune to confusing strong platonic feelings, feelings of _friendship_ , for love.

Tamara had told him a thousand times how easy it was, to convince yourself you were in love with someone when you weren't, because romance was "normal". It was expected, especially and always when you were friends with anyone of the opposite sex. Tamara had taken her time coming to terms with being aromantic, because there had been so many times when she'd thought she was in love; but loving someone and _being_ in love with them were different.

Once she finally accepted that romantic love wasn't the most important kind, and that she wasn't heartless for experiencing sexual attraction without the requisite romantic feelings, she had come to realize what Jasper, and Call, and Aaron (and heck, even Celia) meant to her. And that her feelings of love and affection for her friends didn't have their colors muted by the lacking presence of something "more".

Call wanted to hit himself upside the head, but he thought that would seem strange to the other kids in the Refectory. He had, after all, just kissed his girlfriend. Who kisses a girl, and then thinks, _That was a bonehead move!_ when you're already dating?

Call should've realized Tamara was right, all those times she had insisted his feelings for Celia were platonic.

"I've heard how you talk about her," she had said, one night when they were arguing. "And I've _seen_ how you talk about Aaron. It's not the same!"

"Yeah?" Call had scoffed. "You're _aromantic_ , Tamara. I don't think you know what you're talking about."

Tamara's expression, he remembered guiltily, was reminiscent of someone who'd had a brick thrown at them. There was more hurt there, more broken trust, than there would have been if he'd just slapped her. He had apologized to her later, told her how out of line he was; but he was never going to forgive himself for that, even if Tamara did.

Saying something that cruel, to one of his _best_ friends—that was worth thirty, fifty, _one hundred_ points in the Evil Overlord column, for sure. He'd never felt like such a whopping douchebag. That was the sort of thing he'd expect Jasper to say; and that he'd expect himself to defend Tamara against. They were in this _together_. What had he been thinking?

But Call knew the answer to that. He'd been thinking he didn't want to be gay (Jasper would make fun of him), and that he didn't want to be gay for Aaron in specific (Aaron would hate him). He had been thinking about when he was twelve, and he came to the Magisterium for the first time. And sure, there had been magic and dragons and wild revelations. But the most _amazing_ thing had been that, for the first time, Call had a solid group of friends. He didn't want to jeopardize that.

He was convinced his feelings would go away, or that he'd fall for somebody else, or that maybe he'd even end up aromantic like Tamara, and this would all be a happy misunderstanding. But when it didn't happen that way, he took the first out he saw: it came in the shape of Celia, the only girl in school willing to date him. Eager to date him, in fact. And if he wasn't attracted to her at all, well, he chalked that up to being asexual.

He really should've realized that holding hands and kissing weren't sex acts, because he wasn't repulsed by those things; he wasn't even neutral about them. He actively wanted to do them, just not with Celia. It wasn't dating that made him uncomfortable: it was dating Celia.

He should've known, he kept thinking. But even Call knew he was full of it. He _did_ know. He had known the whole time it was Aaron he wanted, that it might only ever be Aaron. Celia was just a distraction, a way to forget that, a way to ignore it. If he could just bury these feelings deep enough, he'd thought, maybe it would be like they'd never existed.

But they did exist. And he finally, finally got it. What was it Tamara had said this morning? _Just because you think you can ward off the gay, that doesn't mean you actually can_.

Call understood the situation perfectly, and the situation was, he was in love with Aaron Stewart. He had been in love with Aaron Stewart for years. And as he looked across the Refectory at Aaron and Jasper, he met Tamara's eyes. He was dating Celia. Aaron was dating Jasper. The full horror of that reality had finally sunk in. Tamara had tried to prevent this, but Call hadn't listened.

 _What am I going to do?_ Call thought.

He'd never been this lost, or confused, or afraid. And that was counting the time Master Joseph had told him he was the Enemy of Death.

"Call?" Celia said, snapping him out of his reverie. "Are you alright? You look flushed."

He blinked at her.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said, as if deciding that blinking a few times was Morse Code for, _I can't believe how stupidly attracted to you I am_. _I kissed you in public! Silly me_. "Everyone's paying attention to Jasper and Aaron, anyway."

"Yeah," Call agreed. "They are."

He was including himself in that statement.

* * *

 **A/N:** Here's the deal. I will update this fic in a week. I will take a day off for every (non-"Update!") review I get, though. So, if you want to see the next chapter sooner than that, please review!

 **Next time!**

 _He'd never really made out with Celia. He'd kissed her, a few times, but when she made out with him...he didn't feel alive, hyper-responsive, and aware of everything she did. He felt as dead and stiff as a corpse beneath her, like an object being acted upon, with no will of its own. He'd never tried to escape her—kissing was just something couples do—but only now did he recognize the difference between actively engaging her, and just not fighting her._

 _Kissing Celia, kissing Aaron—_ _it was the difference between the lichen facsimile of pizza, and pizza,_ real _pizza. One was okay, but the other? That was the only kind worth having._

 **Stay tuned!**


	2. Chapter 2

Callum Hunt was losing his mind.

"I knew it!" Tamara was screeching in the background. "I _knew_ it!"

"Would you _shut up_?" Call hissed, his eyes darting back and forth from Tamara to Aaron's door. "He's gonna hear you!"

Tamara waved a hand.

"Aaron might take forever falling asleep," she consented, "but once he's there, he sleeps like the dead."

She sat down, cupped her hands around her mug of green tea, and took a long sip.

"Well, first things first," she said. "You're going to have to come clean with Celia."

Call's gaze shot down to the floor, like he was looking for the eyeballs that had just popped out of his head.

"You mean..." he couldn't finish the thought, but he didn't have to.

"Break up with her?" Tamara prompted. "Yes."

"But—"

"No, Call, shut up and listen. Celia's a _nice_ girl. She's our friend. And the longer you draw this out, the further you string her along, the less chance there is of your friendship recovering, and I can't have that. She's my friend, too! If you guys hate each other, where does that leave me and Aaron?" she said, tactfully choosing not to mention Jasper.

"You'll make things awkward for _everyone_ ," she continued. "It's best if you get it over with now, and get it over with _quickly_."

"But what if..." Call trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

 _But what if she hates me?_ He'd never handled the prospect of losing a friend well. Wasn't that the entire reason he'd shut down his feelings for Aaron in the first place?

"You've been dating, what, a year?" Tamara asked.

"A little less than that," Call guessed, not really bothering to calculate the timeline in his head.

"She might not talk to you for awhile, but it's _Celia_. I'm sure she'll forgive you...eventually. It probably helps that you're dumping her because of Aaron, and not me."

Call nodded. They both knew that Celia secretly suspected something between them; she had handled Call's asexuality with difficulty, not understanding why he'd let her kiss him, but not let her into his pants. She had thought that, "I'm asexual," meant the same thing as "Let's wait awhile," and she didn't take it well when Call never warmed up to the idea of having sex with her. When Tamara came out to their friends as aromantic, it was much the same story. Celia thought Tamara meant she just wasn't _ready_ for a relationship, and Call knew she privately looked down on Tamara for it, thinking it meant she was immature.

Her complete dismissal of their orientations had made it hard to be around her, so Call ended up hanging out with Tamara more than Celia, even if he didn't mean to. Predictably, Celia took that as proof positive that Tamara was a threat. Their friendship had been shaky for half a year after Call and Celia had begun dating. Call could understand why Tamara wanted to avoid another prolonged fall-out. Still, he wasn't sure he was brave enough to be the one to dump Celia. If only there was a way to make _her_ dump _him_...

* * *

Call laid on his side, curled up into himself, his black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his arms slung around his knees. It wasn't a very comfortable position, but that was kind of the point: Call was trying to stay awake. He'd just awoken from a dream with a terrible sense of guilt, and it only worsened when the dream came back to him.

 _The scene in the Refectory that afternoon_. The same, but different. Aaron pushing Jasper off him, and telling him he wasn't interested. The version of events playing through Call's mind were the complete opposite of what had happened. This Aaron had told Jasper he was disgusting, that he could never see him that way, and that the very idea made him want to throw up. And, granted, the real Aaron might've said something like that if he were mad, but the real Aaron had _let_ Jasper kiss him.

In the dream, Call had boldly told Jasper off, and declared he was in love with Aaron...in front of _everyone_ , something the real Call could never have done. Not with Tamara and Celia and the entire school in the room. Even without an audience, Call would never have tried to tell Aaron who he was allowed to date, and not just because Aaron could suck him into the void, either. Call didn't believe trying to control someone else was love—if he'd learnt anything from his father, and all the issues they'd had, that was it.

Dream Call had kissed Aaron...

Okay, that was enough thinking about that.

...Had been kissed _by_ Aaron.

Call bit the inside of his cheek, trying to police his thoughts. _Stop it, that's disgusting_. It wasn't right to be so selfish, to think these things, to betray his friends like this. 10 points in the Evil Overlord column.

The scene had changed, he remembered. He had closed his eyes, and the Refectory had faded away. Without opening his eyes, he didn't know how he had registered it, but he knew they were in his room.

Call tried to think of something else, anything else. He couldn't. 20 points in the Evil Overlord column.

It had felt real, which was ridiculous. Call didn't know what Aaron's weight against him felt like, didn't know how he smelled or tasted—the real Call had never made out with Aaron, would never make out with Aaron, so why was he thinking these things? He had to stop thinking about it. He was deluding himself. It wasn't going to happen. It might be unbelievable, he might not want to accept it, but...

 _Aaron's with Jasper. Get a grip, Call_ , he scolded himself. 30 points in the Evil Overlord column. It wasn't working. Would it ever work?

Call _wanted_ to...What did he want to do, exactly? He was scared to think of it, to let the dream overtake him, but he lost his battle. He was tired, physically and emotionally—he wanted to sleep, he wanted to let himself have this one good dream. Call wanted to imagine what it felt like to fist his hand in Aaron's hair, or run his hands down his chest and clutch at his T-shirt.

Call was startled by the intensity of just how _much_ he wanted Aaron's warmth, flowing from him into Call, as they sat pressed together, tangled together, inseparable, unwilling to be parted...

He'd never really made out with Celia. He'd kissed her, a few times, but when she made out with him...he didn't feel alive, hyper-responsive, and aware of everything she did. He felt as dead and stiff as a corpse beneath her, like an object being acted upon, with no will of its own. He'd never tried to escape her—kissing was just something couples do—but only now did he recognize the difference between actively engaging her, and just not fighting her.

Kissing Celia, kissing Aaron—it was the difference between the lichen facsimile of pizza, and pizza, _real_ pizza. One was okay, but the other? That was the only kind worth having.

Call got caught up in the dream, and slipped back into sleep. He'd deal with his guilt over Celia tomorrow.

* * *

 **A/N:** Two reviews? New chapter five days later, instead of seven. The rule holds: I'll post Chapter Three in a week, but I'll take a day off the wait for every review!

 **Next time!**

 _But Aaron wanted this: He wanted Call, and he wanted Call to know it. After that, he could be okay with what would happen. He could let Call date Celia. He could go back to being friends with everyone. But he had to do this first. He had to confess to Call, because if Aaron was honest, he just couldn't live with not knowing whether he ever had a chance_.

 **Stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** The week is up! New chapter, same rule: I'll take a day off the wait for every review!

 **Warnings:** Jasper attempts to coerce Aaron into sex in this chapter. If that should trigger you, I recommend you skip this chapter.

* * *

Aaron liked kissing Jasper. Well, that was—he liked kissing, anyway. He wasn't sure about the "Jasper" part, just yet. But kissing was nice, or at least not bad. Aaron hadn't kissed a boy before...or anyone, but he was trying not to dwell on that. He'd meant to save his first kiss for the first person he liked (so, Call), but after Jasper had kissed him the other day, he'd decided he had a lot of feelings to work out, and he couldn't do that if he froze out his...boyfriend?

 _That's right_ , he admitted. _Jasper's_...your boyfriend.

Those words didn't sound right. Whenever he'd used the word, it was always in conjugation with "Call". Sometimes, it was in his fantasies, where he referred to Call as his boyfriend, dreaming up a summer day like the ones they'd spent at Tamara's house in Second Year. Sometimes, when he was rooted in reality, he'd remember Call was Celia's boyfriend. Either way, "boyfriend" and "Call" belonged together, in a way that "Jasper" and "boyfriend" just...didn't click.

But he could get used to this. He could.

"Call..." he heard himself mutter, inbetween one kiss and another. ... _Is straight_ , he reminded himself. ... _Likes Celia_. The next kiss was harder, rougher, and full of jealousy that slipped Aaron's notice. Despite ostensibly making out with him, Aaron was barely paying attention to Jasper's presence. If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost pretend it was Call who'd lost to him.

Aaron smiled at the thought. Call _was_ easy to provoke...He wondered how Call looked when he was hot and bothered, and he opened his eyes for a second when Jasper pulled away to breathe. Which reminded him: he was kissing _Jasper_. He needed to focus on that, he needed to stop thinking about Call.

Call...who had looked disgusted when Jasper had kissed him in the Refectory. Aaron knew Call didn't like PDA, and that he didn't like _Jasper_ for that matter, but Aaron had to wonder if he wasn't a little homophobic. Sure, he supported Tamara's aromanticism, but that was easy, Aaron thought. What's the big deal about not liking anyone?

Call was straight. From his perspective, kissing boys was probably gross. Maybe he couldn't help it if he had a little ingrained homophobia, Aaron thought. He knew he was lying to himself, though. He was just trying to justify that stupid, mawkish kiss Call had shared with Celia.

Aaron gripped Jasper's arms, trying to root himself in the here and now, but he couldn't rip himself away—the thought had a stranglehold on him. Why did Call kiss Celia? He hated PDA. Aaron had thought that included PDA targeted at Call himself, but apparently not.

Jasper's movements were getting more pointed, and more desperate; Aaron could tell Jasper wanted him to pay attention, to fire back at him. Aaron had had sex with Alex Strike before, as an...exercise, or experiment, or whatever Alex had called it. But he didn't really feel up to doing it with Jasper right now. Why couldn't Jasper be satisfied with just kissing? Call would've been!

... _Call's asexual_ , Aaron reminded himself, and then felt guilty. He was happy Call was asexual. It meant he'd never had sex with Celia. What an awful, selfish thing to think. It's not like Call would've had sex with Aaron, either. What was he thinking?

"Jasper," he said, breaking apart from the other boy. "I've gotta go—study with Tamara and Call."

"You should stay," Jasper said. It didn't sound so much like a suggestion as like an order. He was already absently (or perhaps deliberately) unbuttoning Aaron's pants, without asking.

"I really can't," Aaron said, reaching down to button up his trousers.

Suddenly, Jasper had him pinned down, one hand up his shirt.

"I want you to," he insisted.

Aaron focused on calling earth magic to him, something he, admittedly, wasn't very good at; most of his practice was with chaos magic, since everyone was focused on him defeating Constantine Madden someday.

He thought about the sole of Jasper's shoe, his foot hanging off the bed. He thought about the stone floor of Jasper's room. _Merge_ , he thought, willing Jasper's shoe to melt into the floor and trap him there.

Aaron wasn't enough of a jerk to suck another apprentice into the void, but he was mad enough to _want_ to. Still, he kept control of that part of himself. He didn't want to force Jasper's soul out of his body by accident, or do something else that was equally horrific. But he had no intention of having sex with Jasper, now or ever.

Pushing him to give in instead of letting him go—that was the _last_ straw. He'd been willing to try dating Jasper, but he should've known it was impossible. He was in love with Call for a _reason_. Namely, that Call would never pull this sort of shit with him. Call would never do anything to Aaron that he didn't want.

"Get _off_ me!" Aaron grunted, pushing Jasper off of him and cementing his shoe's goo as part of the floor.

"Hey!" Jasper yelled, when he realized his foot was caught in the floor. "Aaron!"

As Jasper turned to magick his foot out of the floor, Aaron got up and stomped towards the door.

"If it wasn't clear," he said in his most threatening tone, "We're _done_."

He slammed the door on Jasper's protests, and started running to his own dorm room. He had to find Call.

 _I'm in love with you_!

Maybe he wouldn't be brave enough to ask Call out; maybe he wouldn't dare dream that Call could be biromantic, or willing to leave Celia. Aaron understood that he didn't have a chance with Call, but he was sick of running, and hiding, and _lying_ to his best friend.

"No, _I'm_ your best friend," he remembered Tamara had once said. "Get it, yet?"

 _Yeah, Tamara, I've got it_.

Nothing was going to come of this. Hell, he'd probably just alienate Call and Celia and Jasper for the rest of their lives. And—his anger at Jasper notwithstanding—the idea of pushing his friends away, over a stupid crush, _terrified_ him.

But he wanted this: He wanted Call, and he wanted Call to know it. After that, he could be okay with what would happen. He could let Call date Celia. He could let Tamara talk him into forgiving Jasper. He could go back to being friends with everyone. But he had to do this first.

He had to confess to Call, because if Aaron was honest, he just couldn't live not knowing whether he ever had a chance. Maybe he didn't; or maybe the moment was passed. But he had to know. And more than that, Call had to know. He could live with Call loving someone else. But Aaron couldn't live with Call thinking _he_ loved someone else.

He loved _Call_.

* * *

 **Next time!**

 _Aaron had been thinking about something Master Rufus had said once, when Call had asked him why, in his opinion, had Constantine Madden done all that crazy stuff? Master Rufus had said that...that was just the way people are. Being driven mad by the loss of his brother wasn't something unique to Constantine, he had posited. It was normal that a human being should be unable to love with only half their heart._

 _"At the risk of sounding sentimental, there are some people you just can't live without_."

 **Stay tuned!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks for the encouraging reviews! This is the final chapter. I hope you'll continue to tell me what you think!

* * *

"Call?" Celia said. "You look like you're constipated."

Call was pacing back and forth, trying to come up with the words he needed, and failing. How do you explain to someone you're _emotionally_ constipated? Call had rehearsed his confession, gone over it again and again, earlier in the common room. Tamara had suggested he break it into steps. One: He didn't like Celia. Two: He was gay. Three: He liked Aaron.

...He felt like breaking something. If he was _that_ blunt about it, he was going to sound emotionally stunted. Celia would get the wrong idea, and think he was just confused. That was the _last_ thing he needed.

Call took a deep breath.

"Celia—"

* * *

Tamara Rajavi was smirking.

"Where's Call?" Aaron had demanded, bursting into their common room.

"Something wrong, Aaron?" Tamara had asked, noting he had a bit of a disheveled look about him.

"What?" Aaron said, too distracted to process her words right away.

"No," he said hurriedly. "Kinda the opposite, actually. Do you know where Call is?"

"Yeah," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral, and give nothing away. "He went to the Library to see Celia. I got the impression it was really important. Do you think he's finally ready to take their relationship to the next level?"

"T-take their relationship to the next—?" Aaron couldn't finish the sentence. He really didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Yeah," Tamara said slyly, "Do you think they're going to have sex?"

"Call's asexual," Aaron managed.

Tamara shrugged.

"So? There are sex-positive asexuals, and demisexuals, and aceflux people, too. There's a whole great big spectrum..." Tamara raised her eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like this is news?"

Tamara hid her grin behind one of her hands, trying to look pensive and serious, like that sculpture she'd seen once in the Musée Rodin. She was trying _really_ hard not to laugh at how stressed out Aaron looked; she wanted him to find out Call really was gay all on his own, she didn't want to spoil it. But it was pretty hard to believe Aaron was buying any of this. Hadn't it been Tamara herself, all these years, who had told Aaron not to give up?

He couldn't seriously think she'd changed her mind that easily, just because he'd asked her to before. Then again...this _was_ Aaron Stewart. He liked to believe the best of people. He wasn't that good at telling when other people were lying to him, possibly just because he was always ready to dismiss his own perspective. Hopefully, dating Call would give him some more self-confidence.

Aaron shook his head, like he was trying to knock out all the thoughts in his brain about "Call and Celia having sex" from his ears. He took a deep breath.

"Call's in the Library?" he said, just to double-check.

Tamara nodded.

"Yep," she said.

"I'll see you later, Tamara," Aaron said, and he spun on his heel and ran back out the door.

* * *

Aaron didn't know why he was running, why he was bothering to starve himself of breath like this. If Call was straight, if he was serious about Celia...It wasn't like Aaron getting to the scene as fast as he could was going to stop it from happening. This wasn't a movie, where if he made it just in time, he could yell, "I OBJECT!" and True Love (TM) would save the day. But he had kind of already decided that didn't matter.

What mattered—the only thing that seemed to matter at all anymore—was that he tell Call the truth. He couldn't live like this. He couldn't spend the rest of his life, knowing he'd lost to Celia, when maybe...Maybe he didn't have to.

He knew that was crazy. Tamara had been wrong, was definitely still wrong, had admitted, just now, that she was wrong and Call was straight, hadn't she? He didn't know why, then, he was holding onto some crazy hope, just a gut feeling, really. His mind was telling him he was insane, but another part of him was determined to challenge that. He didn't want to give up—did that make him an idiot? Probably.

But he'd been thinking about something Master Rufus had said once, when Call had asked him why, in his opinion, had Constantine Madden done all that crazy stuff? Master Rufus had said that...that was just the way people are. Being driven mad by the loss of his brother wasn't something unique to Constantine, he had posited. It was normal that a human being should be unable to love with only half their heart.

 _At the risk of sounding sentimental, there are some people you just can't live without_.

Aaron, Tamara, and Call had looked around at each other then, each thinking the same thing. That was them, as well. They needed each other. Aaron didn't know what he'd do without his best friends. More than that, though, right now, he was certain Tamara would always be there for him; he didn't feel so sure about Call. He loved his friends, and he was sure they loved him, but...He loved Tamara like a sister. He did _not_ love Call like a brother, and he couldn't go on pretending like he did.

What if this cost him his friendship with Call? He didn't want to be dishonest, he couldn't stand it, but he didn't want to force these feelings on Call, either. He didn't want to make Call deal with something he hadn't asked for; Call had dealt with so much already, and he still had a lot on his plate. He was probably happy with Celia, so wasn't doing this _insanely_ selfish?

Not that it mattered now. He had reached the library. Call was inside talking to Celia, as Tamara had promised, but otherwise it was completely deserted. Aaron got a bit sidetracked, wondering if anyone at the Magisterium had _ever_ studied, but he abandoned the thought as quickly as it had come.

He couldn't hear what Call was saying to Celia, but his face was flushed. If he was going to do this, it was now or never.

"CALL! Wait!"

* * *

Call had barely gotten out Celia's name, hadn't even had time to tell her he wanted to break up, when suddenly he heard Aaron's voice from behind them, shouting his name.

"Aaron?" Call said in a small voice, honestly shocked by the appearance of the other boy. His hair was a mess, and—was his fly down? _What the_...

"Call," Aaron said again, but it sounded different this time. Not angry or worried or tinged with desperation. It was something else, something Call couldn't quite name.

Call knew what Aaron's voice sounded like when something was wrong; he'd heard its tone often enough, throughout all the insane adventures they'd had. But this was different. He'd heard Aaron say his name like that, maybe once or twice, when Aaron was asleep. He'd always figured it had come out like that _because_ Aaron had been asleep. Now, he didn't know what to think.

"Aaron," Call said again. "What are you doing here?"

Aaron strode across the empty library, making a beeline for Call; he didn't even seem to notice Celia was there, though he must have seen her in his peripheral vision.

"Call, before you say anything, there's something I've got to tell you—"

"Can't it wait?" Celia said. "Call was just about to—"

"I know what Call was about to tell you," Aaron said. "Tamara told me. That's why I came here. I know I can't stop you, Call, but—"

"You want to _stop_ me?" Call said, his heart ramming against his chest, like it was determined to rip itself out before Aaron could. "But—don't you care what I—"

"Of course, I care about what you want," Aaron said, anticipating Call's next words. "But I also care about what I want, and—"

"What _you_ want?" Call said, genuinely confused. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Call hadn't meant to sound that harsh, but he couldn't believe Aaron knew he liked him, and he was still trying to force him to stay with Celia. Didn't he realize how unfair that was to Celia? How unfair it was to _Call_? He couldn't believe Aaron had the gall to tell him he should have to date a girl, when he wasn't even straight. Aaron was gay! How could he not understand what he was asking Call to do?

"I don't want to live a lie," Call admitted, out loud for the first time. "I don't want there to be any more misunderstandings, and I don't want to hurt Celia—"

"Why would you—" Celia tried to say, but Aaron cut across her.

"What are you talking about?" Aaron asked.

"What are _you_ talking about?" Call shot back, now completely lost, and without any idea where this conversation was going.

Aaron and Call held each other's gaze for a moment, both of them tensed for rejection, expecting it like a slap to the face, or a punch to the gut. But when the words didn't come, Call breathed through his nose, and opened his mouth to speak.

Aaron must've had the same idea, because they both spoke at the same time, each having decided on his own that he was going to have to go first.

" _I like you_!" they said together, not without difficulty.

"What?"

This time, Celia's voice chorused with the boys'.

"I was going to break up with her," Call admitted, more to Aaron than to Celia. "Why'd you try to stop me?"

Aaron made a face.

"Tamara had me convinced—well, nevermind what Tamara said. I swear, she's going to get it! I can't believe she played me like that!"

"You were going to _break up with_ me?" Celia cut in.

Call looked back at her guiltily, as if just remembering he hadn't actually got around to telling her before Aaron had burst in.

"Yeah, about that...Celia, I'm—that is—I was wrong, before. Tamara was right. I only see you as a friend. I'm really sorry—"

"You're...sorry..."

Celia wasn't sobbing, so Call didn't notice she was crying, and he plowed on.

"Yeah, it's just—it's like Tamara said, I kind of...tried to ward off the gay, but I can't, and—"

"Call," Aaron said, nudging him.

Call hadn't been able to meet Celia's eyes, but now he looked up.

"Oh," was all he said.

"We're gonna go," Aaron said, taking Call's hand and leading him out of the room.

"Are you sure that was okay?" Call asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," Aaron said. "I'm pretty sure she wants to be alone, right now."

* * *

Tamara had gone to bed early. That was the first thing the boys noticed when they entered their common room. Aaron made a face, and grumbled about how he was going to get revenge; Call couldn't take him completely seriously. His fly was still down, for one thing.

The second thing they noticed was that they were still holding hands.

"Oh, sorry," Call said, reflexively letting go, just as he had any other time when holding hands had been briefly necessary. The "no romo" instinct was still there, apparently.

Aaron obliged to let go of Call's hand, but he grabbed Call's sleeve instead, and pulled him closer, until their feet and their faces were mere inches apart (more like centimetres, Call thought).

"So," Aaron said, as if standing this close wasn't at all awkward, "You...that is...we like each other, right?"

"Yeah," Call said. "I mean, I do. Like you."

"You like me," Aaron echoed, like he wasn't sure he'd heard right.

Impulsively, without thinking, he reached up to stroke Call's face. He brushed his hand through Call's hair, which was long enough to cover his ears by now. All of the blood in Call's entire body must have rushed to his face then, because he looked like a human pomegranate: Aaron didn't think he'd ever seen anything so red. Such a bright color probably didn't exist in nature, Aaron thought, except maybe in elementals.

Aaron drew his hand back, as if just realizing what he'd been doing. Call grabbed at his arm, taking hold of him by the elbow, seemingly without meaning to do so.

"Don't..." was all he said.

"Don't what?" Aaron said, his voice pitched higher than he intended. His left hand clenched nervously into a fist. "Just so I'm clear...Call, you don't...like me as your friend, or your brother, or—"

Call wasn't really listening, but Aaron was too distracted to notice that. Call had taken a step forward—

"Ow!" Aaron shouted, suddenly.

Call looked down, and realized he had stepped on Aaron's foot.

"Sorry," he said, putting his foot back.

They glanced at each other then, and meeting the other boy's gaze silenced all their doubts. There was an intensity there, a familiar trust there, and something else Call recognized now: desire. That had been the edge to Aaron's voice, earlier. The thing that Call couldn't identify. Aaron had sounded like he was begging Call not to leave him, when he had shouted after him in the library. But it wasn't a plea, like he thought he was going to die. He didn't sound scared. Aaron had said Call's name like it was the most important thing he'd ever say, like it was the only thing that would ever matter to him, as if nothing would supersede these feelings again. That wasn't the voice of someone asking permission; it was a declaration.

 _I want you more than anyone else_. _I love you more than anything else_.

Aaron hadn't been demanding Call love him back; but that tone in his voice, that's what it had meant. He had completely revealed himself to Call: there would be no more hiding, from either of them. He hadn't been trying to dominate the conversation...he'd been revealing his own weakness, communicating to Call what he really wanted. Aaron hadn't asked Call to love him. He'd just wanted Call to let him love _him_.

Suddenly, Call realized how long the walk from the Library to their common room was, and he noted the pain in his leg. He abruptly sat down on one of the couches, his eyes leaving Aaron's gaze, while he momentarily caught his breath. Him and Aaron...Tamara had been right all along, why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he listened?

"Call?" Aaron said, uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

He sat down next to him, noticing Call was rubbing his leg.

"Yeah," Call said, "It was just a long walk."

"Maybe this will help," Aaron said, and before he could talk himself out of it, before the thought had time to complete and his brain had a chance to shut it down, he leaned forward and kissed Call.

* * *

Aaron was warm. That was the first thing that registered with Call. His heat was almost oppressive, at least compared to Celia, who had always felt like winter personified. His shirt was bigger than Celia's, big enough that Call could fist his hands in it. He pulled Aaron closer to him, grabbing at his arms again, and kissing him back, kissing him _harder_.

It seemed to be a competitive thing; Aaron didn't want to think about Call kissing Celia. Call didn't want to think about Aaron kissing Jasper. So, they had to do their best to erase that history, to eradicate it, to let it become meaningless and forgotten...

Aaron pushed Call down on the couch, and Call stretched out, his leg evidently forgotten. Aaron wasn't thinking about forcing Call to have sex with him, but here in this position, with Call beneath him, returning his energy, refueling it, firing back at him as earnestly as he could...It was hard not to think about what that'd be like.

Call, surprisingly, for someone who didn't much like being touched himself, was more handsy than Aaron had expected. He seemed determined to touch every part of Aaron he could reach: running his hands through his hair, down his neck, across his shoulders, over his chest, down his back...Aaron got the impression Call wanted to feel all of him, and for his part, Aaron was perfectly fine with letting himself be enveloped in Call.

Call wanted Aaron to feel good—that was as much as he could explain his actions—and for perhaps the first time maybe in all of ever, he was feeling touch-starved himself. He wanted to be sucked in by Aaron's presence, lost in the reality of having him here; it had been so many years, so many _miserable_ years. Kissing Aaron as he was, he suddenly couldn't fathom how he'd done his waiting, how he'd swallowed these feelings and buried them unimaginably deep inside. Right now, they were boiling over, bursting out of him, against all notions of pride or decency or common sense.

They both thought they should've been stronger than this, they both feared what being this vulnerable towards the other meant; but they both put it out of their minds, too enwrapped in the rapid actions of their hands and mouths to make much sense out of anything else, let alone have time for constructive thinking. The problem-solving part of their brains had already decided: This, this is it. This is the answer to your problem. They didn't think about it—it was maybe the first time they'd ever flatly refused to overthink something—they simply allowed themselves to be absorbed by what they were doing.

Call kissed Aaron, and Aaron kissed Call, and it went on like that for hours, or maybe days, or maybe an entire age; they couldn't tell, and they didn't care anyway. All they knew was that they had no intention of being parted by fear and stupidity again.

"Your fly..." Call said, between snogging, "it's still open."

He snorted, but Aaron didn't seem bothered. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants; he reached up and pulled Call by his shirt, pulled him back down to him, and took his mouth again; and Aaron was kissing Call as suggestively as he could, touching him carefully, so as to not set the asexual boy off.

Call was on top of Aaron now, and it got him thinking. He might not be capable of sexual attraction, in any direction, but he'd never thought much about whether he'd like to give sex a try or not. He'd always assumed not, but that had been when he was with Celia.

Aaron, for his part, seemed happy enough to be making out with Call, instead of Jasper. Call got the impression Aaron would let him decide what he wanted—the invitation was certainly there, but did he want to take it?

The best thing, though, was that Aaron was _here_. He wasn't going anywhere. Call had him, all of him, the entire physical reality of him; he had Aaron Stewart all to himself. And he had plenty of time to figure out what he wanted from him. Right now, Call was happy to just _be_ with Aaron, in the realest sense possible.

This wasn't a dream. He wasn't going to wake up tomorrow, still with Celia, having to watch another spectacle by Jasper, as Tamara looked on disapprovingly from a distance. When he fell asleep, it would be with Aaron; and when he woke up tomorrow, Aaron would still be here. No matter what happened, Aaron was going to be with Call, every day, and Call was going to be with Aaron.

For the first time in his life, Call had an intuitive understanding of what it meant to not be alone. He was never going to be alone. His heart was in the hands of a chaos mage, sure, and that might be dangerous. He and Aaron were, after all, supposedly destined enemies.

 _A human being cannot live without half their heart_.

As far as Call was concerned, Aaron was his whole heart. If anyone could stop Call from becoming Constantine...but he didn't want to think about that right now.

Aaron was kissing him quite heatedly now, and Call was perfectly content to not think about another thing.


End file.
